Yan Huan laid down on her stomach, clutching the album tightly in her arms. She had taken to sleeping like that ever since her back was injured.
That’s right, go to sleep. Ye Shuyun brushed her hair gently, and only left when Yan Huan was sound asleep. She soon came back, however, driven by a feeling of uneasiness.
“Please go back, Madam. I’ll take care of her,” assured the nanny. She moved her luggage into Yan Huan’s room and laid down a sleeping mat, in order to take care of her.
“Thank you for your hard work,” said Ye Shuyun, taking another worried glance at Yan Huan. Finally, she heaved a sigh and returned to her bedroom.
“When will such misery come to an end?” asked Ye Shuyun as she leaned her head against Lu Jin’s shoulder. “Sometimes, I think to myself that maybe it would have been better if she went along with him. How can I bear to see her like this? How can I keep her away from him? I am Lu Yi’s mother, but now it feels as if I was his stepmom.”
Lu Jin patted her on the shoulder. “We love our son, but we have a duty to protect the person whom Lu Yi cherished and protected. We will take care of the girl. Our son had given her the gift of life, so we have to fulfill his last wishes, right?”
“Right,” said Ye Shuyun, her hand closed around his. This was something they had agreed on. They had to carry it through, no matter how difficult it was.
The darkness that obscured one’s fingers seemed everlasting.
Yan Huan opened her eyes and sat up. The nanny was still asleep. With the album in her arms, she walked to the balcony, and browsed through the photographs under the dim light.
She sat down, her back against the balcony, and ran her fingers across every photograph. A smile came onto her face. Dim light fell on her, accentuating her frailness.
She pressed her face against the album. That was the only way to make herself feel that Lu Yi was close. So close, yet so far.
At first light, the nanny jolted awake and found Yan Huan missing when she took a glance at her bed.
“Ah!” she cried. “Oh no, Miss Yan has gone missing again.”
She rolled off her bed and scrambled to the door.
When she had brought everyone to the room, however, they found the missing person sleeping silently, as though she had never left.
The nanny looked at Yan Huan and rubbed her eyes. Was she seeing things? But she could have sworn there wasn’t anyone just now. Could it have been a dream?
Ye Shuyun heaved a sigh of relief. Thank goodness it was a false alarm. Too many things had been happening lately. If this went on, her nerves wouldn’t be able to handle it.
“I’ll get you some medicine. You should sleep more,” Lu Jin said to Ye Shuyun. The medicine he was referring to were sleeping pills He Yibin had prepared just for her. They worked like normal sleeping pills, but the high-quality ingredients made it harmless to the body, even when consumed regularly.
“Okay,” said Ye Shuyun, barely holding it together. She rubbed her forehead, feeling as if she might lose her marbles at any time.
As Lu Jin supported Ye Shuyun back to her room, the nanny stood on the spot, wide-eyed and confused. Yan Huan was sound asleep, and had not even turned in her sleep. Could it really have been my imagination?
Knowing that it was 4 AM, she decided she should sleep again. She was embarrassed by the ruckus she had stirred.
Sleep came quickly. What the nanny didn’t know was Yan Huan’s eyes had been open all along. She flipped the album open and buried her face within, almost feverishly.
In her mourning, she had lost track of time.
She began to treat the album like an actual person; she ate with it, slept with it, and eventually even talked to it.
Ye Shuyun’s anxiety grew as she watched her.
What is she to do? Yan Huan would go crazy if left to her own devices.
Despite having regained consciousness, she had turned into an unfeeling zombie, who spoke to no one apart from the album. To Yan Huan, the album mattered more than her life. She would stand at the same spot and stare at anyone who touched or took the album.
Left with no choice, Ye Shuyun had to summon He Yibin again.
He Yibin did a thorough check on her, but found nothing wrong. The problem wasn’t her body, but her mind. Physically, she was there, but her heart was somewhere else.
Her heart had gone away with Lu Yi the moment he left.
There was nothing He Yibin could do about that, so they had to seek a psychiatrist.
But Yan Huan refused to see a psychiatrist when he came. She still clutched onto the album, ate with it, slept with it, and said nothing to anyone. The one solace Ye Shuyun had was that Yan Huan ate her meals, or rather, drank them.
Yan Huan’s eyes opened again. Clutching onto the album tightly, she sat up and stepped onto the ground. Wearing no shoes, she opened the door and walked out like a phantom.
Step by step, she ascended the staircase. By the time she stopped, she was already on the balcony of the fifth floor. The cold October wind blustered against her thin clothing. She kept walking, until she reached the side of the balcony, and sat down. She pressed her face against the album again.
“I’m sorry, Lu Yi. I have tried my best to live, but why should I live when the pain is so inconsolable? If I have to live like this, I would rather die.”
The wind ruffled her hair, so strong it blinded her for a second. She looked down at the lampposts that stood against the cold wind, illuminating each other with their own light.
Even the lampposts were in pairs. Yan Huan was alone. Too alone to go on.
She could probably end it all if she jumped here.
Was it really high enough, though? It should serve. Yi Ling had jumped from the 25th floor during her past life, and had become a messy lump of flesh by the time she was found. She didn’t want to die in such an ugly state. She wanted to die pretty.
